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<title>They Shouldn't Have Given Her A Knife by Imjustonegal66</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25569202">They Shouldn't Have Given Her A Knife</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imjustonegal66/pseuds/Imjustonegal66'>Imjustonegal66</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cloak &amp; Dagger (TV 2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Do not romanticise mental illness, F/M, No romanticisation here, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Story based off experience, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Tandy is hurt, Ty comforts her, self-harm tw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:15:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25569202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imjustonegal66/pseuds/Imjustonegal66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The universe was playing a sick joke on her, giving her daggers of light. Two could play at that game.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tandy Bowen/Tyrone Johnson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>They Shouldn't Have Given Her A Knife</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If self-harm and mentions of suicide trigger you, please don't read this fic. I'm venting this out because the itch came back again, and this is me dealing with it.</p><p>National Suicide Prevention Helpline: 1800-273-8255.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She'd hid it for a damn long time. The universe had a twisted sense of humour. Rarely did she find solace in hope, so the universe gave her rule over hope. She felt safest in the light, so they gave her pure daggers of it.</p><p>She walked about with glaring scars on her arms, hidden by makeup which probably shouldn't be on an arm in the first place, go figure. <br/><br/></p><p>She couldn't remember when it had started. Tandy only really began to think about it when she got over the tens mark. That muted, dull but agonising throb in her chest, like a high pitched whine drilling through her ribcage, that heavy feeling she forced herself to carry about.</p><p>When she'd wrapped those chains around her ankles, tied her wrists with rope, she was prepared. The world had been cruel to her. So many people hated her, and some had died because they had the misfortune of knowing her. What was the phrase? It was like she was a walking curse.</p><p><em>You can't trust anybody, </em>her mind supplied, so she'd bandage her arms and her thighs every night, hide her thighs in shorts and tights.</p><p>It sucked so much that, when she was dancing, when she lifted up her legs, the searing burning had her dropping to the ground, sweat beading her forehead. <em>Weak, </em>her mind barraged. She started keeping her head down more, wondering if anyone hated her. They had to, right? She was a monster, she could hurt someone if she lost control, and she didn't want to.</p><p> </p><p>The first time she'd been on drugs, the high hadn't been worth it. Three hours of deluded panic and, after the come-down, she'd had a splitting headache, tasting the salt on her tongue. It didn't help that she looked like hell warmed over.</p><p>She checked her stomach for signs of weight sometimes, wondering if she was fit enough to be a dancer. Was she always destined to fight? Why did the universe choose her, of all people? Ty was both kinder and more capable than her. He didn't need her.</p><p>She'd shake when she walked in the streets, her bones practically rattling as her eyes shifted from side to side. She didn't want to risk another incident happening after the party those many months ago. The blues even told her, bare faced as she reported it and cried about it that she couldn't press charges.</p><p><em>Rich bastards, </em>she thought bitterly. She hated the gazes of pity Ty and Evita gave her sometimes. She could care less what happens to the guy now... right?</p><p><br/>She wanted revenge. Every night, she'd lay in bed, that night flashing through her head. If he'd managed... she didn't want to think about what could've happened if they'd managed. If her daggers hadn't phased in at that moment.</p><p>Then, the argument had happened, and Ty had rightfully lashed out at her like she'd deserved. She'd yelled back, hurt, when she'd let slip about her problem. He'd gone off on her about what a <em>nice life she led, </em>and <em>how she shouldn't just throw it all away, </em>then, the cherry on top, <em>why don't you just kill yourself?</em></p><p> </p><p>She wondered what would have happened if Ty had been there that day. Would he regret saying that? Would he have talked her down from that ledge? Would he have dived in after her if her daggers hadn't ignited?</p><p> </p><p>Then Duane happened, and she pretended she was fine. She couldn't even hug him for crying out loud, while he sat on that bench. She was always the little spoon, something about <em>you may be the feisty one, but I'm the big bear of the group</em>. Better times, better times.</p><p> </p><p>She'd so nonchalantly let slip in the computer lab about her attempt, and Ty had looked at her with such horror and shame she had to look away. The adrenaline, the thrill that rushed through her when she realised she had control of her mutation was nothing compared to when it left and a week later, some of her fresh cuts were green around the gills. They were infected, and she has no chance of getting antibiotics here. She'd have to fight it out or she was screwed.</p><p> </p><p>The pure terror she'd felt when her mom and Ty had pulled back her hoodie's sleeves, to reveal the multitude of scars and blade lines had her seconds away from throwing up everything she'd eaten that morning, not mentioning that it was the evening when they found out.</p><p>Despite being skin and bones, she still felt fat. She felt it everywhere around her body, the imagined way her arms would flab underneath when she moved them, the movement of her thighs like water in a water balloon. She could barely stomach a single meal any more. She was fading away, and she was okay with it.</p><p> </p><p>Despite that, her mom and Ty took her to Mina. She'd seen the look on Mina's face, but she said nothing. How could she? <em>Freak. Look what you did. You upset them. It would be better if you didn't exist. <br/><br/><br/></em></p><p>
  <em>No.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Yes.</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>NO.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>YES.</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>...<br/>I won't let you rule me anymore.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>WHAT?</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I said, I'm done letting my own mind destroy me. I'm done with the put-downs, I'm done with the pain. You will always be with me, I've accepted that now. There will be bad days. There will be days where I can barely get out of bed because of the pain. But I'm the one holding the reins now.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>YOU WILL ALWAYS BE USELESS! YOU WILL ALWAYS HURT THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU! YOU'RE WEAK, LIKE YOUR DAD!</b>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Stop. I am in control. If I am a monster, then I own that. If I am crazy, I own that. I might be useless, but it doesn't matter if I can change that. I might always hurt the people I love, but I will apologise, over and over. I will never stop apologising for everything I've done wrong to them. My dad was the kindest cop you'd ever meet. Connors killed him because he wanted to see good in the world, and Connors had his enterprise. My dad was anything but weak.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>We both exist together. I have had so many panic attacks it's untrue. I have lost months and years of my life fighting my own head. But what if it doesn't have to be a fight? What if I improve? What if, just what if, I can be better? I am Dagger. I am a daughter. I am a girlfriend. I am a friend. I am a niece. I am a Young Avenger. And as long as you and I exist, you will never control me again.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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